


Nightmares of Innocents

by Disneymagics



Series: Innocents 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Abused Jensen, Age Regression/De-Aging, Broken Jensen, Caring Jared, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Jensen, Hurt Jensen Ackles, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Mentions of past child abuse, Non-sexual, Physical Abuse, Protective Christian, Protective Jared, Younger Jensen, emotional infantilism, mental age regression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disneymagics/pseuds/Disneymagics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt over at spnkink-meme:  The prompt asked for infantilism.  I tried, but didn't suceed.  Instead, I wrote a story about Jared, a single man who adopts an extremely traumatized teenager.  Jensen is exhibing exteme age regression caused by his abusive parents.  This is the first story written in the Innocents 'verse, the others are prequels.  When Jared decides to take a job that requires office hours, he hires a nanny to take care of Jensen while he's gone.  AU Younger!abused!Jensen</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Jensen is a very troubled young man who finds love and acceptance from the people who rescue him from his abusive parents. Because of the long-term abuse he suffered, Jensen has regressed mentally and behaviorally. This first story still has some infantilism aspects to it. Subsequent stories attempt to explain Jensen's behaviors and why his care-givers (principally Jared, but also Christian, Misha, and Jim) treat him like an infant in many ways. I recommend reading the stories in the order in which they were written because this first story, Nightmares, many seem out of character with the others unless you read it first with the knowledge that the story started off as one thing and became something else entirely. Nightmares sets up the questions and the prequels, Hope and For Love, answer them. There is also a new story in the works, Declarations. It will be posted soon.
> 
> I received so much support for this story when it was originally posted over at Livejournal. I can't thank alycat, kamikaze_redux, and especially etoile_etiolee enough!!! All the artwork for this story was made by her.

[](http://disneymagics.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/393/5649)

**Nightmares of Innocents**

**Chapter 1**

"Wake up, sunshine." The gentle voice is soothing and so is the large hand sifting through his hair. Jensen loves that voice because it belongs to his daddy. Warmth and a sense of well-being flood through him. The fluffy cocoon of blankets he has made for himself in his crib is downy soft and his body feels heavy with sleep. It isn't worth the effort it would take to pry his eyes open so he doesn't bother, instead letting the warmth carry him back under.

There's a fond chuckle from above him and strong arms pick him up, carrying him for a short distance before settling him in daddy's lap in the rocking chair. "You always have such a hard time waking up, don't you, love?"

It's true. Sleep always takes a powerful hold of him, dragging him down and often refusing to let him go. He's always been a deep sleeper, can sleep through just about anything. His body seems to need a lot of sleep too. Even though he takes a long nap every day, he can still sleep all night long and have trouble waking up in the morning. He doesn't know why, that's just the way he is. Daddy Jared doesn't seem to mind.

They rock and snuggle for a long time while Jensen dozes, his head resting in the crook of his daddy's neck while Jared hums quietly under his breath. At some point, daddy stops humming and starts talking to him. "Do you know what today is, baby boy?"

Jensen blinks heavy eyelids open and shakes his head sleepily into daddy's neck.

"Today is the second anniversary of you coming to live with me and letting me be your daddy and letting me take care of you. I think that deserves a celebration. Two whole years, Jesus. Sometimes it's hard to believe it's been that long."

Two whole years. Daddy says two years like that's a really long time, but Jensen has no frame of reference to tell whether that's a long time or not because he doesn't remember very much before coming to live with Daddy Jared. When he tries to think back, he gets vague images of two faceless people, a man and a woman. He thinks they were supposed to love him, but they didn't. In his memories they're much bigger than he is, towering over him. Sometimes they're screaming at him and sometimes they're hitting him or burning him with small, white sticks. He can remember being locked in the closet a lot as punishment without any food or water, but mostly he just remembers being scared and lonely and sad. Very, very sad.

Daddy wipes a tear from his cheek with the pad of his thumb, shushing him. "Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you think about that. It's okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you ever again. I promise."

Jensen hadn't realized he'd started to cry. It startles him a little bit and he burrows further into the safety of his daddy's arms.

Even though Jensen doesn't speak, has never said a word in the two years since they've been together, daddy always seems to understand him, to know what he's thinking and why he's upset.

"I'll tell you what; I'll make you pancakes and bacon for breakfast right after I change your diaper. Then I'll call your Uncle Christian and see if he can come over. I'll bet he'd love to visit with you. Maybe he'll bring Chad and we can see if Misha is free too. All our favorite people to celebrate our big day. What do you think?"

Christian isn't really his uncle. In fact, they aren't related in any way, but he's daddy's best friend and the reason why Jensen came to live with Jared. He's a police officer and the first person Jensen ever felt like he could trust in his whole life. It's probably because of Christian that he's still alive, that he cares about whether he's alive or dead.

Chad is Christian's friend. He's loud and kind of crazy. At first, Jensen hadn't been too sure about Chad, but he's getting used to him. It takes him a while to get used to new people.

Misha is a paramedic, the one who came to take him out of the scary, sad house with the mean people in it. He likes to make funny faces and he'd made sure Jensen was never left alone in the hospital even when Christian was getting him released into Jared's custody.

The people at the hospital had said he was 18 years old at the time. That makes him 20 now.

The first diaper change of the day is special because that's when Jensen gets his face shaved. Daddy likes for him to be clean shaven, says he likes to see Jensen's sweet face. Jensen doesn't really care whether he's smooth or not, he just loves having his daddy's undivided attention.

Once the changing pad is unrolled onto the plush carpeting of his nursery, daddy settles him on his back in the middle and goes to get the diapering and shaving supplies. "I'll be right back, sweetie. Be a good boy and stay there."

Jensen smiles and turns onto his side so he can watch his daddy through the door that leads to the attached bathroom.

Coming back into the nursery, arms already loaded down with supplies, daddy tries to snag a fresh diaper from the bin. The can of shaving cream, which had been clutched under his arm, falls to the ground followed by the towel and the razor. Daddy puts his foot out to try and catch the towel and ends up kicking the diaper bin, causing a cascade of diapers to hit the floor as well.

The sheepish look on his daddy's face is the last straw and Jensen can't help but laugh. Daddy is always doing stuff like that.

"You think that's funny, do you? I'll show you funny." Then Jared is on the floor with him, long nimble fingers tickling his sides and belly. "This'll teach you to laugh at me."

Jensen tries to roll away, giggling and thrashing, but Jared is relentless and he doesn't stop until Jensen is laughing so hard he can barely catch his breath. Worn out and happy, they lay there, side by side, both of them gasping for air.

"I love to hear you laughing." Daddy says. "It's the most beautiful sound in the whole world."

He doesn't mention how long he'd had to wait or how hard he'd had to work to get Jensen comfortable enough to laugh for the first time after coming to live with him. And that's just as well.

Notwithstanding the somewhat rocky start, the rest of the morning ritual goes off without a hitch. Jensen lies on his back while Jared unsnaps his sleeper and removes his wet diaper. Daddy dips the wash cloth into the basin, wrings out the excess water, and tenderly wipes him clean. The terry cloth and warm water feel really good against his skin. Jared finishes up by applying a thin layer of ointment to prevent chafing and rashes.

"There. All done," Daddy says, taping the fresh diaper into place. "Now we just have to get that scratchy stuff off your face."

The shaving cream feels kind of tingly and cool and makes him squirm a bit.

"You gotta stay still now," Daddy admonishes him quietly, nothing but affection and amusement in his voice.

Compliant and content, Jensen stops squirming while daddy moves the razor oh so carefully over the plains and contours of his face. His look of intense concentration speaks of how seriously Jared takes his task. Jensen relaxes under his daddy's steady hand and watches as his brows furrow and his dimples flash occasionally.

The easy familiarity of the time spent together and the effort daddy puts into it make Jensen feel cherished and secure.

"Baby soft," Daddy declares once they're done, running a finger over his freshly shaved cheeks and chin. He says the same thing every time. That phrase is part of their morning routine and Jensen's pretty sure the sky would have to be falling for daddy not to say it.

Holding up two different shirts, daddy asks, "What do you want to wear today?"

Jensen points to the navy blue t-shirt. It's one of his favorites because it used to belong to daddy. The cotton material has been stretched out and, even though it's a little big on him, it's really comfortable.

The rest of the morning flies by what with making and eating breakfast, calling and confirming that everyone can make it that evening, and cleaning their cozy, little house to get it ready for guests.

Of course, Jared does most of the work, but that doesn't mean Jensen isn't busy too. It's his job to keep his daddy company. So while Jared makes breakfast, Jensen sits in his booster seat and listens to his daddy's deep, rumbly voice as he talks about what needs to be done during the day, cooing and gurgling whenever it seems appropriate. When Jared vacuums the house, Jensen crawls along behind him, picking up any stray toys he comes across and putting them in the toy box. He even fluffs the pillows on the couch while daddy dusts.

Their house is small, tucked away in a secluded spot on a large parcel of land at the edge of town. The nearest neighbors are several miles away and that's the way they both like it. There are two bedrooms, the master bedroom and the nursery which are connected by a bathroom, a study where daddy goes to do his work, the kitchen where they cook and eat all their meals, and the living room.

By the time they're done with the cleaning and have eaten a light lunch of tuna sandwiches with potato chips, it's time for Jensen's nap. They cuddle up in the nursery rocking chair, Jensen nestled in a blanket on daddy's lap, holding his white, stuffed rabbit, Mr. Bun, in one hand and sucking on his bottle of warm milk.

It's nice and, as active as he's been all morning, he should be feeling sleepy and ready to go right down for his nap, but instead he's wide awake, too excited to sleep. The thought of having a bunch of people around makes him jittery, as though his skin is constantly being charged with tiny currents of nervous energy. Even though he loves Uncle Christian and Misha and he thinks he could probably come to love Chad eventually, he's still anxious at the thought of having so many people in the house with him all at the same time.

Daddy cups his cheek in one large palm, rubbing at the nape of his neck with blunt fingertips. The gesture is intimate, soothing in a way that would normally help him to drop off. Jensen sucks lethargically on his bottle and lets his eyelids droop at the pleasure his daddy's stroking fingers give him.

"Okay baby, m'gonna put you down in your crib for your nap now." Daddy murmurs.

To show his displeasure at the idea of being left all alone in his crib when he's not tired, Jensen fusses. He sticks out his bottom lip and makes an unhappy, whining noise. It's not a temper tantrum. There's no reason to pull out all the stops. Besides, Jensen doesn't like to make a lot of noise, he's pretty easy going for the most part, and he can count on one hand the number of times a full-blown temper tantrum has been necessary with Jared.

"No nap today?" Daddy tilts his head to the side and looks at him with a question in his slanted, hazel eyes. "I think you might regret that decision when you fall asleep right in the middle of your visit with Christian and Misha."

Jensen just shakes his head, drops his bottle, and winds both his arms around his daddy's neck, still clutching his stuffed bunny. He really doesn't want to be left alone right now.

With a self-deprecating chuckle, daddy stands, lifting Jensen in his arms, blanket and all. "Fine, no nap. God, you have me right where you want me, don't you? Wrapped around your little finger. Your Uncle Christian is gonna laugh himself silly when he hears about this."

Together they go into the study so daddy can get some work done before their guests arrive. His job as a magazine editor allows him to do almost all his work from home on his computer. It's a perfect situation as far as Jensen is concerned. He loves all the time he gets to spend with his daddy.

The buzzing of the doorbell sometime later makes Jensen's heart leap into his throat. He's eager to see his friends and flustered at the same time because he's never sure how he's supposed to act around other people, he's never sure what's expected of him. It's a strange feeling, being happy and frightened all at once.

Daddy looks at his watch. "It's not quite six yet. Someone's early." Shutting off his computer and standing up from the desk, he looks down at Jensen where he's sitting on the floor nearby, fluffy toy rabbit on his knee. "You ready?"

Jensen nods even though he doesn't think he really is and crawls after Jared into the entryway, careful to stay somewhat hidden behind his daddy's legs.

Christian is standing on the other side of the door in his uniform, holding a bakery box by the twine it's wrapped in. As soon as the door opens, he gets a huge grin on his face. "Hey man, hope it's okay I'm here early. My shift just ended and I was already out this way. Thought I'd just swing by instead of going home first to change."

Peeking out from behind his makeshift shelter, Jensen can see Christian's patrol car in their dirt driveway.

"No, of course it's okay. We're just glad you could make it on such short notice." Daddy takes the bakery box from their friend before pulling him into a one-arm hug. "What is this and where's Chad?"

"Chad's on his way. He's gonna stop and pick up the pizzas and that," Christian points to the box Jared has is his hands, "is a cake because we can't celebrate a two year anniversary without cake. Am I right, kiddo?" At this, Christian crouches down on his haunches so that he's nearly at Jensen's eye level and sticks one hand up in a 'high five' gesture.

The butterflies in his stomach flutter and Jensen doesn't know where he should look, so he lowers his eyes, unbearably bashful.

"Oh no, none of that. You're not gonna leave me hanging. You can play at being shy with everyone else, but not with me. Come on, kiddo; let me have it, right here." Christian extends his hand again, palm out, and this time Jensen musters the courage to slap his own palm against his uncle's, smiling at the floor.

"That's my boy." Christian's voice is warm as he hauls Jensen in for a hug, skimming his knuckles lightly over the hair at the top of Jensen's head. "Your hair is getting awfully long." he whispers, as though it's a secret.

Jensen's hair is pretty long, he guesses. It's gotten long enough to curl up at the ends where it lies against the nape of his neck. Daddy likes to run his fingers through it and Jensen finds the sensation soothing, so yeah, it's been a long time since Jared has trimmed it and that's fine with Jensen.

Christian's fond acceptance breaks through Jensen's nerves and uncertainly just like it does every time they're together and soon Jensen is enjoying himself, sitting on the couch in between Jared and Christian, listening as they cut up and tell funny stories. Christian always has some good ones about the people he works with on the police force or the strange things that happen to him in his line of work.

Whenever Jensen feels the need for a little affection, he just cuddles up to his daddy or his uncle and they're quick to press a kiss to his forehead or put an arm around his shoulders.

Chad gets there next and he's…loud. "I have arrived! The party can now begin!" He yells as he bursts through the front door without knocking.

Jensen can't help his startled flinch. Christian feels it and rubs his arm to help calm him while his daddy jumps up to grab the pizza boxes Chad is holding triumphantly high in the air.

"Awesome. Thanks for getting the pizzas, Chad." Jared says.

With a raised eyebrow, Christian asks, "Did you remember to bring my guitar?"

"Stop off and get the pizzas, Chad. Don't forget to bring my guitar, Chad. For fuck's sake Kane, I'm not your goddamn pack mule." Chad is waving his arms around and he sounds really angry.

Jensen puts his hands over his ears and rocks forward to get his head between his knees. His heart is hammering in his chest. Loud voices mean hitting or punishing. That's something Jensen remembers all too well.

"Easy, easy." Someone starts softly rubbing his back and he hears Christian say, "Not so loud, Chad," in a gentle, reassuring voice.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, buddy. I was just playing around. Honest." Chad doesn't say anything for a while, no one does.

The couch dips as his daddy sits next to him again and Jensen burrows into his side. Eventually his heart rate slows and he feels brave enough to lift his head and glance around.

Chad, looking like the very definition of remorseful, is shifting from foot to foot, lacing and unlacing his fingers, head bowed. It's kind of pitiful.

Jensen offers him a tentative half-smile.

Chad returns it.

"Yeah, I brought your guitar." Chad says to Christian, voice much more subdued. "It's in the car; I'll go get it."

The front door is still wide open from Chad's dramatic entrance and Misha steps into the house just as Chad sidesteps him to get out. They nod at each other in greeting, Misha watching Chad's retreating back with a puzzled look on his face afterwards.

"Something wrong with Chad?" He asks.

"No, he's fine. Just going to fetch my guitar for me." Christian explains.

"Ah." Misha nods and smiles at Jensen. "In that case," Gracefully sinking into a cross-legged sitting position on the floor of the living room, he opens his arms invitingly. "Where's my hello hug?"

Jensen scrambles off the couch on his hands and knees and makes a beeline for Misha's outstretched arms. Misha catches him up and laughs, settling him in his lap. "How's it going, Jensen? Jared treating you alright?"

Jensen nods. It's a silly question, Jared always treats him great, but Misha seems to like asking. He does it every time they see each other.

"That's good. How's your scar?"

The scar Misha is talking about is an old one, two years old to be exact. Jensen lifts up his t-shirt so Misha can see the jagged line of raised flesh crossing his belly. An odd combination of awe and anguish flits over Misha's face as his thumb traces the same path the knife had taken.

Jensen doesn't know what he did to deserve the gaping hole in his stomach. The whole incident is kind of a blur to him. There'd been a lot of screaming and then a white-hot, searing pain and then nothing until Christian had been there, telling him to hold on, that everything was going to be okay. For some reason, Jensen had believed him and he'd been right.

As the paramedic dispatched to attend to Jensen that night, Misha had been the one to try to patch him back together and keep him from bleeding out on the way to the hospital. Misha asks about the scar frequently and Jensen thinks he must not be the only one to bear a scar from that night. Only maybe Misha's scar can't be seen from the outside like his can.

When Chad gets back with Christian's guitar, they all dig into the pizza, eating it straight out of the boxes in the living room, not even bothering with plates. They do however, use plates and forks for the cake, Jensen's favorite, red velvet with cream cheese frosting. It's delicious.

Outside the windows, daylight fades and darkness falls. Christian pushes his plate away with a grunt, takes up his guitar, and begins to strum the chords to a mellow country song.

The effects of a long day without a nap catch up to Jensen then, just like daddy had warned him they would. He's so sleepy he can barely keep his eyes open. Determined not to miss out on any of the fun though, he refuses to stay still. If he moves around a whole lot, he won't be able to fall asleep, right? That's the plan anyway.

He starts off in his daddy's lap with his head tucked under his daddy's chin, fingering the catch of the gold-plated watch daddy wears on his left wrist while listening to the quiet chatter between his friends. Daddy holds him close and strokes a hand through his hair. That's no good because it's only making him sleepier. He feels his eyes slip closed and his hand stills without his permission.

Nope. He shakes himself awake, crawls out of daddy's lap and over to Misha where he snuggles up against his friend's chest. His eyes feel dry and scratchy. He has to keep blinking and rubbing at them. Misha shushes him, puts a hand over his eyes to shield them from the lamplight and to prevent him from rubbing them red. Jensen doesn't realize he's nodded off until his head comes to a rest on Misha's shoulder.

No, no, no. Blinking groggily, he leaves Misha for Chad. Surely Chad won't let him fall asleep. Loud, crazy Chad. Jensen climbs into the chair Chad is sitting in and stretches out beside him. Chad gives him a bemused look, like he's surprised, happily so, that Jensen wants to visit with him. Then he puts an arm protectively around Jensen's shoulders and goes very still and quiet. Turns out Chad isn't any better at keeping him awake than daddy or Misha were.

Finally, he has to give it up as a lost cause. With a yawn, he makes his unsteady way back to the couch, curls into a ball and puts his head in Christian's lap, heedless of the guitar which Christian quickly moves out of his way.

He's kind of halfway asleep and halfway awake when he hears Misha say he has an early shift in the morning and has to go home. Chad says he should go too and daddy gets up to see them out.

He really wants to say goodbye to his friends, but he's so drowsy he can't move, can't even open his eyes. He feels himself floating and he kind of wonders if he's dreaming.

"Looks like someone's all in." Christian's fingers card though his hair, brushing it out of his face.

The couch shifts and Jensen thinks his daddy must have come back and sat down again. "I'm surprised he's made it this long actually. He didn't wanna take his nap this afternoon."

"And I suppose you gave in. Didn't even make it past the pout, did you?" Christian's voice is amused.

"You think you could do any better? Next time he wants something I'm going to send him to you. I dare you to withstand his big, green eyes and his trembling lower lip. They're lethal, man. I'm telling you."

Christian sighs and his next words are said in a deep, sad tone. "Jared, have you told him yet?"

"Not yet. I'm afraid he's not going to take it well, he doesn't like change, new people scare him, and honestly…I can't stand the thought of upsetting him."

"Yeah." There's a pause and then Christian continues. "If I could keep him for you I would, you know that right? In a heartbeat. It's just not possible; I've already tried asking. The precinct is down a man right now with Olsen out on disability and the Chief won't even consider rotating my schedule to accommodate Jensen staying with me."

"No, I know you would. I just need to suck it up and tell him. Could you…I mean, would you mind being here when I do it? Just in case."

Jensen doesn't hear Christian's reply because the sound of his own heart beating is too loud for him to hear anything else.

Jared doesn't want him anymore. Jared is getting rid of him and Christian can't keep him either. Where will he go?

Before he realizes what's happening, he's gulping air through his mouth like a fish out of water. A band of steel is looping around his chest, constricting tighter and tighter. The air isn't going anywhere; it's stuck in his lungs, as thick and heavy as tar.

There are hands on him, pulling him up into a sitting position, thumping him on the back, pressing on his chest. Christian is off the couch, kneeling in front of him and Jensen can see his mouth moving, can tell Christian is talking to him, but he can't hear the words. All he hears is a buzzing sound and the thumping, rushing, whooshing sound of the blood pumping through his veins. Black spots are dancing in front of his eyes, growing bigger and getting darker.

Jared doesn't want him anymore.

That's the last thought that goes through his mind just before he checks out.

"This was the worst one yet. Even right after you got him away from those assholes who called themselves his parents, the panic attacks weren't this bad. Are you sure he's alright?" His daddy's voice sounds weird, like it's coming from far away, through a tunnel or from underwater or something. There's a worried edge to it too.

"I know it was, but he's gonna be okay. Passing out was the best thing that could have happened to him under the circumstances. He's breathing just fine now."

That's Uncle Christian. Why is Uncle Christian here?

Someone runs a hand down his flank, over the padding of the diaper at his hip and the bare skin of his thigh, and Jensen realizes he's lying stretched out on his side, not his normal sleeping position. Usually he sleeps curled up or on his stomach.

He doesn't feel very good. His head hurts, a throbbing ache at the base of his skull, and his stomach is churning like he might have to throw up. Maybe he's sick. Maybe that's why daddy sounds so worried and Uncle Christian is here.

Nothing is making much sense. He whimpers and puts out a shaky hand, not understanding where he is or what's going on, but needing some comfort.

"Hey baby. I'm right here. Can you hear me?" Daddy takes his hand and Jensen feels the moist press of lips against his palm. "Can you open your eyes?" The quavery, worried tone is still there. Jensen doesn't like it.

Fighting the groggy, fuzzy feeling inside his head, he blinks open his eyes. The walls of the living room spin around him in a lazy circle.

It takes him a moment to realize he's on the couch, but when he does, the conversation he'd overheard -the conversation between his daddy and his uncle - comes crashing back in vivid detail, every word crystal clear.

Daddy is sending him away because he doesn't love him anymore. 'New people' is the same thing as strangers. Daddy is giving him away to strangers.

With a choked-off wail, Jensen yanks his hand away, curls himself into the smallest ball he can manage and scrunches back into the furthest corner of the couch. He just wants to melt into the cushions and not have to feel this crushing ache in his chest.

He can't do this, he just can't. It's too much.

Scalding tears pool in his eyes, run down his cheeks and drip off his chin, one after another. He recognizes the thin, keening noise as coming from him, but he doesn't know how to stop making it, doesn't know if he even cares.

"Jesus Christ, Jared. Do something." Christian's voice sounds wrecked and it seems to break some kind of spell because daddy moves then, scoops Jensen up in his muscular arms and holds on tight, as though he's trying to keep them both from shattering into a million pieces.

"Jensen, don't cry sweetie, please don't cry." Cradling Jensen against his chest, Jared sits on the couch, their couch, in their home, but not Jensen's for too much longer.

Christian hovers indecisively for only a few seconds before sitting next to them, one hand on Jared's bicep, the other on Jensen's ankle, offering a source of strength and the quiet assurance that he's not leaving them alone, either of them.

Other than the harsh sobs and tremors wracking his body, sapping all his strength, Jensen is unable to move and he goes limp, letting his head flop forward.

"It's going to be okay, baby. I love you so much and, I swear, I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you." Daddy croons, voice deep and soothing. "I know you heard Uncle Christian and me talking and I know it scared you really badly, but it's not as horrible as you seem to think."

The words are a mantra said over and over again, "I love you baby, please don't cry. Not gonna let anyone hurt you. We'll be alright. I promise, I promise, I promise."

Barely audible and only partially penetrating the sounds of his despair at first, little by little the meaning behind the soft murmurs and gentle caresses begins to trickle through.

"He's shivering; I'll get his blanket." Christian bends to brush a strand of damp hair from Jensen's face then turns toward the nursery.

"And can you heat up a bottle, too?" Daddy asks, distracted only for a moment from his constant stream of reassurances.

"Yeah, of course." Changing direction, Christian walks the short distance to the kitchen.

Jensen's tears eventually taper off, exhaustion replaces grief, and his mournful cries become muffled hiccups and hitched breathing.

When Christian comes back into the living room, he has a bottle of milk and Jensen's blue and yellow striped blanket. The blanket, a present from Misha last year, feels good, like home and family and belonging somewhere, and Jensen doesn't have it in him to protest getting wrapped up in the fleecy material from head to toe.

As they settle him, blanket clad, back into his daddy's arms, Christian hands the bottle off to Jared, who tips it up and nudges the nipple past Jensen's swollen lips. Even though he normally starts off holding his own bottle at naptimes, relinquishing it only when sleep begins to tug at him, he makes no effort to hold it now, instead nestling further into the blanket to take as much comfort from the moment as he can.

It's all too far beyond him and he's too sleepy to think anyway. The crying hasn't helped his headache.

The milk is laced with something, something with a little kick to it. Whether it's medicine or alcohol or something else, he's not sure. Whatever it is, Christian and daddy share a look as he sucks at the bottle and his eyelids grow heavier.

"Listen sweetie, we'll talk about this more in the morning when you wake up, but I'm going to tell you now so you don't have to worry anymore." Daddy kisses his temple then continues. "I've been offered a promotion at work…Editing Supervisor. I'm not sure if I'm going to take it yet, but I told them I'd give it a try, see if we can make it work out, just on a trial basis."

Jensen's head is beginning to feel as though it's filled with helium. Maybe he's had enough milk. He turns his head, letting the nipple slip from his mouth.

"The thing is…I'll have to be in the office at least part time to meet with staff editors and be available to answer questions. That means not being at home with you as much as I am now." Putting the bottle on the coffee table in front of the couch, daddy shifts Jensen higher so his head is nestled in the juncture of daddy's neck and shoulder. "I don't like leaving you at home by yourself so I've hired a nanny to come stay with you. His name's Mark…Mark Pellegrino. He's really nice. I think you're gonna like him."

Christian is standing next to the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, a stern look on his face when he says, "I've done some digging, pulled a background check on him. I wouldn't let just anyone stay with you. He's got a clean record, but I can always stop by during the day while I'm out on patrol, make sure you're okay."

There's no way Jensen is going to be able to stay awake much longer. His eyesight wavers and blurs.

Daddy's voice is getting harder to hear, fading, as though someone is turning the volume down. "You'll meet him in a couple of days. If you don't like him, you give me the sign and it's a no go. I'll…"

Jensen blinks, blinks again, and the next time he closes his eyes, they stay closed.

[](http://disneymagics.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/393/6082)   



	2. Chapter 2

[](http://disneymagics.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/393/5649)

**Nightmares of Innocents**

**Chapter 2**

Two days later, Mark comes by their house to meet Jensen. Jared goes to open the door while Jensen, still feeling very timid and anxious, hides behind a chair in the living room. From his hiding spot he has a good view of the entryway and the man who might be his new caregiver.

Jensen understands now that his daddy loves him and doesn't want to get rid of him. They'd had a long talk the morning after his panic attack, well, daddy had talked and Jensen had listened. Jensen had been embarrassed that he'd overreacted the way he had. Of course daddy loves him. How could he have thought otherwise after everything daddy does for him?

"Mark, come on in. Thanks for coming all this way to see us." Daddy greets the man and steps back to let him in.

Through the open door saunters a man with blue eyes, chin held high, a spring in his step, confident and self-assured. His blonde hair is short and stylishly spiked, unlike Jensen's which is longer, forming soft curls around his ears. The man's ears stick out from the sides of his head a little and his eyebrows are such a light blond that it almost looks like he has no eyebrows at all, giving him a vaguely rat-like appearance. He's tall, not as tall as daddy, but tall nonetheless.

"Don't mention it." Making a point of looking around, Mark says, "You must enjoy the privacy. It looks like you're the only ones out this far. No neighbors for miles." He smiles, wide and friendly.

"We do like the quiet." Daddy nods. "But come into the living room. I want you to meet Jensen." As he talks, Jared leads the way towards the chair Jensen is crouched behind. "Jensen's shy, but once he gets used to you, he's very affectionate."

Having someone, a stranger, stare at him is one of Jensen's biggest fears and he feels the weight of Mark's gaze as though it's a physical thing. His hands begin to shake so he pulls his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms around them, and ducks his head. He wants to like this new man for daddy's sake, but it's just so hard for him to trust people.

"It's okay sweetie, Mark just wants to meet you." Jared picks him up, holds him close and lets Jensen bury his face against one of his broad shoulders. "Remember what I told you – it's your decision." His daddy whispers into his ear, rubbing his back.

"He's quite the handsome fellow isn't he?" The compliment sounds sincere, not sleazy as it so easily could.

"That he is." There's a note of pride in Jared's voice that makes Jensen's face flush with heat.

"Let me show you around. The nursery is this way; Jensen usually takes a nap in the afternoon for a couple of hours. He gets a bottle right before he goes down for his nap and he's usually out like a light before he can finish it. His diapers are in here next to the crib, you'll be able to tell when he needs changing."

Daddy and Mark are deep in conversation, neither of them paying much attention to Jensen. This could be a good time to sneak a glance at Mark without risking the man looking back at him. Jensen raises his head just enough that he can see out of the corner of his eye.

Mark is nodding along to everything Jared says, politely attentive, without a trace of judgment or uncertainty on his face. He looks nice, but Jensen knows, mean people don't always look mean just like nice people don't always look nice.

Uncle Christian is a case in point. He has the scariest scowl Jensen has ever seen, but if there's one thing he knows, it's that Christian has a soft spot a mile wide.

Sometimes mean people look completely normal and no one suspects that they enjoy kicking their kids until they hear bones snap or that they starve their son and make him drink water out of a crusty dog food bowl. No one knows what the mean people do behind closed doors.

Jensen shudders and daddy sways from side to side, a rocking motion meant to sooth.

As they walk into the kitchen Jared continues his running commentary. "You should feel free to help yourself to whatever we have in the fridge for lunch. For the most part Jensen will eat the same thing that you're eating. I guess that's about all there is to it. Do you have any questions?"

"I don't think so. We already covered a lot of it when we talked over the phone." Mark begins to count off on his fingers, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've given you my qualifications already. I know approximately what hours you'll be working each day and we already settled on an hourly pay rate. You gave me all your contact information, so unless there's…"

"Oh, there is one other thing. There are a couple of people, friends of ours, who might drop by to see Jensen while I'm at work. I'll give you their names and descriptions so you know who you can let into the house."

"No problem. You tell me who they are and I'll make sure to allow Jensen his visitors."

"Well, it sounds as though we're all set except for the most important part, we still need to make sure you and Jensen are going to get along."

"Yes, yes, of course," Mark says, trying to catch Jensen's eye, knees bent and body canted forward slightly. "I have so many fun things planned if you let me come stay with you while Jared is working. You have such a nice place here and I can see the two of you are wonderful together. I'd like to help you guys out, give Jared the opportunity to try out this new job while knowing everything here at home is being well cared for." He raises one pale eyebrow expectantly.

"What do you say, baby boy?" Daddy asks. "Should we give it a try? It's totally your call."

Jensen doesn't want daddy to have to miss out on an opportunity because of him and he certainly doesn't want daddy to be ashamed of him. Biting his lip nervously, he nods his agreement into his daddy's shoulder. Everything's going to be alright, he tells himself. As long as daddy still loves him, everything will be okay.

Daddy makes all the arrangements and on the following Monday, Mark knocks on the front door at the designated time.

The eggs and toast daddy had made for breakfast still sit on Jensen's plate, untouched. He hasn't been able to eat them because his stomach feels like there are hundreds of bugs squirming around inside it. Ever since being lifted out of his crib this morning, he's been shadowing Jared's every move while he gets ready to leave, glued to his daddy's legs to the point where he's almost been stepped on a couple of times.

Opening the door is a little awkward what with the way Jensen is hugging his daddy's calf, handfuls of suit pant material clenched in his fists. He knows he isn't making this any easier for either of them, but he just can't seem to help himself. He's scared.

"I'm going to need my legs back now, sweetie." The chuckle daddy tries for sounds brittle and when Jensen looks up he sees moisture at the corners of his daddy's expressive eyes, worried furrows on his forehead.

"Separation anxiety," Mark tuts, strolling casually into the house. "It's quite common. Lots of babies react that way when their parents leave the first couple of times. Don't worry Jared, he'll be fine before your car even gets to the end of the driveway."

Reluctantly, Jensen unwinds his arms from around his daddy's leg so he can get his hug and kiss goodbye. Daddy ruffles his hair and then holds both sides of his face in large, gentle palms. "I'll be home before you know it," he whispers. Turning, daddy hurries away as though he's afraid he's going to change his mind if he stays for one second longer.

The car roars to life, backs down the long, dirt driveway.

And then daddy is gone.

It doesn't take Mark long to make himself at home. Within minutes of daddy pulling away, he has his feet up on the coffee table and is watching a morning talk show on TV, totally ignoring Jensen.

The house feels strange without daddy in it. Every sound Mark makes while absorbed in his program, the scoffs and snorts of laughter, are so weird, so different from what he's used to, that Jensen winces at each one.

Not sure what he's supposed to do, Jensen climbs onto the couch next to Mark. The couch is a place for cuddling, it always has been, so Jensen scoots closer, places a tentative hand on Mark's elbow.

The next thing he knows the man's hand arcs back and flies forward in a stinging slap. Jensen's head rocks back violently and tears spring to his eyes. He hasn't been hit in the two years he's lived in Jared's house and the blow shocks him, takes him back to another house, a time in his life he'd thought gone forever.

"Don't you touch me. Ever. Do you understand?" Mark's voice is deceptively calm, chillingly emotionless.

Cowering away from his new nanny, all Jensen can do is nod. It's starting again, the punishments, the hitting. Something inside Jensen twists, like the blade of a knife, and a part of his mind goes off-line where it's safer.

When Mark leaves the room, Jensen doesn't move, and when Mark comes back, throws a couple pieces of ice in his lap and tells him to, "Put those on your cheek. There can't be any noticeable marks when your daddy gets home," Jensen does as he's told.

It's hours before either of them move from their spots on opposite sides of the couch, but eventually Mark stretches and stands up.

On his way to the kitchen, for what purpose Jensen doesn't know, Mark stops and stares at him, something like surprise on his face, as though he had forgotten all about him. "Ah Jensen, you just reminded me; I told you the last time I was here that I had a lot of fun things planned for you, but what I didn't tell you is that those fun things, those games, are secret games. You can't tell anyone about them, not even Jared." Mark tilts his head to the side and his blue eyes get a hard edge to them. "Oh wait, that's right, you don't talk so you can't tell anyone anything. Huh, that makes things so much more convenient…for me."

The way Mark looks at him makes Jensen's breath stutter to a stop.

"We can get started soon, but first I think you need to have your diaper changed. Come on." Mark leads the way to the nursery without looking back to see if Jensen is following, confident that his orders will be obeyed.

The thought of disobeying never even occurs to Jensen. He'd been trained by the best for eighteen years after all and he knows the consequences of defiance.

In the nursery, Jensen lies submissively on his back, exposed and vulnerable.

As Mark removes the dirty diaper, he wrinkles his nose in revulsion. "This is disgusting. I don't know how Jared can stand to put up with this day in and day out. Fuck, this is a mess."

Daddy has never complained about changing Jensen's diaper, never made him feel like it was distasteful or nasty. It's always been a time for gentle touches and warm caring, but Mark's reaction makes Jensen wonder if maybe Jared has always hated doing it and is just too nice to say anything. He turns his head in shame.

"You're filthy." Mark says, his voice dripping contempt. "You're going to need a bath now." Pinching the delicate skin on the inside of Jensen's thigh, he says, "That's for being such a dirty boy."

The hard pinch sends a jolt of wrenching pain along sensitive nerve endings, startling a broken whimper out of him. Even though the punishment seems random, Jensen suspects he deserves it.

Mark stands and goes to the bathroom without another word. Jensen crawls after him and gets in the bathtub because he knows that's what is expected of him.

The water Mark runs is lukewarm at best, causing Jensen to shiver while he waits for his body to get used to the chilly temperature.

Sitting at the edge of the tub, Mark stares down at him from what seems like a great height, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "As long as you're taking a bath, let's play a water game. Let's see how long you can hold your breath."

That's all the warning Jensen gets before his shoulders and head are shoved under the water, his back coming into sharp contact with the bottom of the tub. On an inhale, his face goes under, his nose and mouth instantly flooding with water. His lungs, trying to expel the liquid, begin to spasm, but that only makes his dire need for oxygen more desperate. He struggles and thrashes, panic making his movements jerky and ineffective.

Mark has the advantage of leverage, pressing down on him from above, and Jensen is helpless against him.

With the prolonged lack of oxygen comes a strange acceptance as his muscles lose strength and coordination. Instead of continuing to fight, Jensen let's go, allows his body to go slack. All the tension evaporates, his arms float on the surface of the water and he opens his eyes.

Mark's face is right there, mere inches from his own.

Jensen is so far gone that the release of pressure against his chest doesn't register right away. Mark has to reach down, grab his arm and haul him up. As soon as his head breaches the surface however, he's coughing and spluttering, hacking and gasping.

Gouts of water pour from his mouth and dribble from his nose. His throat burns. The tears that stream down his face aren't the result of sadness or despair because he's far beyond feeling any kind of emotion. No, these tears are simply an involuntary reaction to his body's distress.

"You aren't very good at that. I think you need more practice. We'll have to try again next time you take a bath." Mark smirks. "Now let's get you cleaned up."

None too gently, Mark scrubs him down with a bar of soap and then yanks him out of the tub.

This is all beginning to feel so familiar that it's easy for Jensen to revert to the hopelessness he used to feel. He closes his eyes and it's like he never got out. This is his life and it always will be.

Time flows backwards and he hears Mark's voice as if it's coming from the mouth of another man, one he's tried so very hard to forget. "We need to get you all put back together again so you're daddy can see what a good job I'm doing taking care of you. That way he won't feel like he has to give up his wonderful new promotion and his fancy office where he gets to go and have real conversations with people who actually talk back to him."

Past and present seem to merge together and Jensen can't hold on any longer, doesn't want to hold on, truth be told. He lets his mind go blank and zones out… [](http://disneymagics.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/393/6576)

The next time he looks down at himself, he's sitting in his booster seat in the kitchen, wearing a fresh diaper, plain white tee and light grey sweat pants. His feet are bare and his hair is still wet so not too much time has passed. Looking around, he sees Mark standing at the stove, a wooden spoon in his hand and a pot of boiling water simmering in front of him. Even thought he doesn't want to attract his nanny's attention, the sight of the man makes Jensen squirm in his chair.

Mark glances at him from over his shoulder and smirks when he catches Jensen's eye. "Oh good, you're back. That's a pretty neat trick you've got there, responding to what I tell you to do without really being aware of what's going on. How do you do that anyway?"

Jensen lowers his eyes and Mark sighs loudly, as though Jensen's silence is a huge inconvenience for him.

"Never mind, it's not important." Mark stirs whatever is in the pot. "Lunch will be ready soon and since I had to dump out your uneaten breakfast I suspect you're hungry."

Jensen's not hungry. He's not hungry at all.

A knock on the front door startles them both, Mark dropping his spoon and Jensen jumping so high he nearly falls out of his seat.

"Stay there." Mark says as he wipes his hands on a paper towel and heads toward the entryway.

The sound of his uncle's voice rings out loud and clear through the small house as soon as the door is opened. "You must be, Mark, the nanny. Hi, I'm Chris Kane. I'm here to see Jensen. Jared probably told you I'd be dropping by. Thought I'd spend my lunch break with my best boy, make sure everything's going all right."

That's all Jensen needs to hear before he's off his chair like a rocket from a launching pad, hurtling straight towards his uncle.

"Whoa, hey there, kiddo." Christian stoops down to gather Jensen into a hug. "What's all this about?" Even with his face buried in Christian's side, Jensen can hear the suspicion and anger in the question aimed at his new nanny.

"He's not exactly happy about Jared being gone. First day jitters." Mark offers by way of explanation. "We're working on it though, aren't we Jensen?"

"Hmmm," Christian says, clearly not convinced. Keeping one hand on the top of Jensen's head, fingers toying with the wet strands and lightly scratching Jensen's scalp, Christian straightens up.

Jensen puts his hands up as high as he can, reaching for his uncle pleadingly, the way he does when he wants to be picked up.

Christian's laugh is a single bark, warm and fond. "Don't think I can pick you up like your daddy does, kiddo, but how about we go into the living room and we can eat lunch together." Christian indicates the cardboard cartons of Chinese take-out he'd hastily set on the side table in the entryway in order to catch Jensen's headlong rush.

The food holds no appeal for Jensen, but the reprieve his uncle is offering him from his nanny's undivided attention is heaven sent.

"It was nice of you to bring us lunch, Officer Kane. Just let me turn off the stove and I'll be right back." Mark's lips form a tight, thin line as he turns toward the kitchen.

The dark blue, police uniform Christian wears when he's on patrol is such a huge part of who he is that it doesn't register as something to comment on until Jensen hears Mark refer to his uncle as 'Officer Kane'.

Christian just waves a hand dismissively, "I'm on break, remember? You can call me Christian."

Something about the tone of the exchange makes Jensen think the two men don't like each other which is strange because they've only just met. What reason could they have to dislike each other already?

Once Mark is out of easy hearing range, Christian leans down, grasps Jensen's shoulder and whispers, "Are you okay?"

And yeah, Jensen is okay…now that Christian is here. He's terrified about what's going to happen when his uncle leaves, but for right now he's fine so he decides to go with that and nods.

Then Mark reappears, picks up a couple containers of take-out, and tilts his head. "Shall we?"

"Definitely," Christian replies as he grabs the remaining two boxes by their wire handles.

Determined to make the most of his uncle's limited break time, Jensen only waits until Christian settles in the large recliner, an open carton of moo shu pork in one hand and a plastic fork in the other, before he crawls into the man's lap.

Christian takes the seating arrangements in stride, simply spreading his arms out to the side while Jensen finds a comfortable spot huddled against his chest. "Aren't you going to eat? I got you some fried rice."

Jensen would much rather stay where he is, soaking in as much affection as he can while it lasts. He makes his wishes known by tangling his fists in Christian's uniform shirt, bunching the material up and holding on as though he's afraid of being ripped away.

He may not talk, but Jensen knows how to make himself understood in most situations.

They stay like that while Christian eats, casually juggling a lapful of clinging Jensen and his Chinese food as though this is perfectly normal behavior.

It's only once he's finished eating, sliding forward to reach around Jensen and put his empty carton on the coffee table, that Christian asks Mark, "Have we ever met before? I feel like I know you from somewhere."

Shrugging, Mark chews and swallows a bite of sweet and sour chicken before answering. "Not that I recall."

"That's weird." Christian narrows his eyes in contemplation. "I never forget a face - comes in real handy for the job, you know - and yours is very familiar." The beeping of his cell phone breaks his concentration and Christian shakes his head. "Damn, that's my alarm. I've got to get going. Oh well, it'll probably come to me later."

"Right," Mark says, standing and moving closer to the front door. "I'm glad you came by. Jensen seems to be very attached to you. I'm worried about him not eating. What do you think?"

If Jensen didn't know better, he might think his nanny was concerned on his behalf.

"Eh, missing one meal is no big deal. Now if he starts to make a habit of it we may need to see if Misha will make a house call." Christian playfully wriggles his fingers into Jensen's belly. "Don't make me get Misha out here to give you a physical. You remember what happened last time."

The last time Misha had given him a physical had actually been pretty funny. There had been balloons and a game of Simon says involved. Suffice to say that Misha had done his very best to make sure Jensen enjoyed the experience. The memory makes Jensen smile in spite of the terrible news that Christian will have to leave soon and Jensen will be left alone with his nanny.

Then Christian puts a gentle hand on his chin, coaxing his head up to ensure eye contact. Voice soft, he says, "Hey, I know first days are hard, kiddo. I know you don't like Jared being gone. But listen, it won't always be this bad. If he decides to accept the promotion permanently he'll still be able to work from home a lot of the time. Long days away like this won't happen very often. Okay?"

Jensen's eyes well up with tears. He can't help it, the sadness just won't stay inside him. His lower lip trembles as the tears begin to fall.

Christian takes a shaky breath and pulls Jensen into a hug. "Yeah, Jared was right, this is lethal. You're killing me here, kiddo."

Swiping a hand over his face, Christian gets out from under Jensen and walks deliberately over to where Mark is standing. "Take good care of him."

It's not a request, it's a warning, the 'or else' silent but unmistakable.

The moment the door closes behind his uncle, Mark is striding back into the living room. "Well, your friend ruined my plans for lunch, but that's okay. I can adapt and we have plenty of time, don't you worry. There are other things we can do. Speaking of…come with me."

Jensen hangs his head and follows along obediently, a pit the size of a baseball sitting heavily in his stomach.

"Your daddy said you get a nap in the afternoon so how about I tell you a little bedtime story after you get into your crib?" Mark stands next to the crib, arms folded over his chest, until Jensen realizes he's not getting any help climbing in even though the crib sits pretty high off the floor and isn't easy to get into with the railing locked in its highest position.

With difficulty, he pulls himself up and kind of falls over the railing and onto the mattress. Getting into the crib that way is humiliating, but it doesn't hurt and once he's inside the enclosed space, he feels safer, as if the thin bars are enough of a barrier to protect him from harm. It's silly, he knows. Still, he hopes Mark will leave him alone if he pretends to fall asleep during the story.

He hugs his stuffed bunny, Mr. Bun, drags the blanket over himself and closes his eyes.

"Comfy?" Mark asks, reaching through the bars to grab a fistful of Jensen's hair and give it a cruel yank.

So much for the illusion of safety. Jensen resolutely keeps his eyes closed and tries to ignore the throbbing pain.

"Okay, here we go. Once upon a time there was a spoiled rotten boy who lived with his daddy in a quaint, little house. It was just the two of them living all alone and the daddy did absolutely everything for the boy, but it was never enough. The boy was demanding and ungrateful, always asking for more. One day the daddy decided he'd had enough. He didn't want to do so much for the boy when he never even got so much as a 'thank you' in return. He wasn't a hard-hearted man though and he couldn't stand the thought of punishing his only child. So he hired someone else to do it for him. The man he hired was called The Nanny and it was his job to teach the boy not to be so selfish. He used lots of different training techniques, but his favorite one involved water because water didn't leave any marks behind and it was really effective. Of course there were others, but we'll get to those later. I think that's a good place to stop for today. I'll finish the story tomorrow."

The snick of the nursery door being pulled shut tells Jensen that Mark is probably gone. He wouldn't put it past the man to only pretend to leave though so he opens his eyes and cautiously looks around.

No Mark and yet Mark's story is still very much present, like a monster crouching in the shadows, ready to pounce.

The pit in Jensen's stomach grows to the size of a basketball.

Mark is wrong. He has to be.

It's stupid to think that daddy hired someone to torture him. Ridiculous. Daddy has spent two years convincing him that he wants and loves him. It was daddy who taught him what it means to be cared for and cherished.

When Jensen had first come to live with Jared, he'd been afraid of being touched, afraid of sudden movements, afraid of loud noises, okay he's still afraid of loud noises, but he's making progress. He makes progress every day; even now two years later, he's still getting better. And that's all because of Jared.

Memories of the days, weeks, months following his release from the hospital assail him. Memories of cowering in mindless terror, of squeezing into the smallest spaces he could find, of shaking and trembling if anyone got too close to him, of Jared's endless patience, of hours spent listening to Jared's voice coaxing him to come out, murmuring reassurances. 'I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you.'

Jared makes that promise on a daily basis.

Jared's promises are sacred.

But then…wait…how…

Bad things _are_ happening. The promise isn't working.

Jensen lies in his crib, clutching Mr. Bun, and thinks.

He thinks for a long time. He never does fall asleep for his nap.

A car pulls into the drive, Jensen hears the motor idle and then cut off, the squeak of hinges as the car door opens and slams shut. After a few seconds, the front door opens and voices come from the living room. He can't make out the entire conversation, but he hears certain words.

"…home early…"

"…Jensen?"

"…napping…"

Then the front door closes and a car pulls away.

Eager to see his daddy after what feels like ages, Jensen sits in the crib and watches the door to his nursery. It inches open just a crack, the flash of an eye visible on the other side before it swings open all the way.

"You're awake." Daddy's smile is huge, mirroring Jensen's.

Jensen nods happily and puts his arms out to be lifted from his crib. But then he thinks about what he's doing. Smile fading a bit, he lowers his arms and begins to climb over the railing by himself, one leg braced on the mattress while the other straddles the top bar.

"Hold on there. What are you doing? Wait…I'll help you." Daddy is across the room in three long strides, preventing a head-long tumble by enfolding Jensen in his arms and bringing him to his chest in a tight hug. "I missed you so much today, baby boy." The words are muffled in Jensen's hair as daddy nuzzles the top of his head.

Wrapping his legs around his daddy's waist, Jensen holds on with all his might, wishing he never had to let go.

"I came home early 'cause I needed to see you…make sure you were okay. Couldn't concentrate on the article I was reading." Jared shakes his head and gives Jensen a sheepish glance from under his bangs. "I know, I'm just being foolish but…I was worried about you."

Jensen tucks his head into the hollow of his daddy's neck, feeling the slight scritch of stubble against his temple. He doesn't want daddy to worry about him – not on top of everything else he has to do – and as much as he knows he should, Jensen can't seem to make himself give up the comforting embrace.

"Yeah, I think we both need this," Daddy says, walking the few steps to the rocker where he settles in with Jensen cuddled close. "I didn't get to rock you to sleep for your nap today. That kinda bums me out. I didn't realize how much I was going to miss it."

The quiet sounds of the rocking chair rolling back and forth over the plush carpet and the gentle swaying motion are soothing. Jensen's eyelids begin to drift closed.

"My sweet, sleepy boy." Daddy chuckles and shifts him into a more upright position. "Don't fall asleep now or you won't be tired for bedtime tonight. I have to go into work early again tomorrow for another meeting so we can't get your schedule out of whack."

The words have the same effect as a bucket of icy water being dumped over his head and Jensen is instantly wide awake. He shivers involuntarily at the thought of another day spent with Mark.

Oblivious to the real cause of his shivering, daddy chaffs a large hand over Jensen's bare arm to fight the imaginary chill. "I know what. Let me change your diaper and then we'll decide what to fix for dinner."

Uncertain, Jensen sucks his lower lip between his teeth. His diaper does need to be changed, but he can't forget the disgusted look on Mark's face, the way he'd wrinkled his nose and called him 'dirty'. Seeing the same look on Jared's face, hearing that tone in his voice, would crush Jensen and he's not sure what to do. Torn by indecision, he does nothing.

Humiliation causes his cheeks to flame as he lies on the cushioned changing pad, fingers digging into the spongy, plastic-covered surface beneath him.

Daddy pulls off his sweatpants and unfastens the diaper. While normally a bonding experience between them, with Jared's devotion and adoration for his baby boy easily seen in every tender touch and expression, now Jensen can't bear to watch. He looks at the light green paint on the walls, the picture of golden retriever puppies over his dresser, the Beatrix Potter lamp on his nightstand, anywhere but at his daddy's face for fear he might see something he'd missed all those other times. Some sign of displeasure.

If Jared notices anything amiss, he doesn't mention it.

During dinner preparations, daddy tells Jensen all about his day, from a description of the view outside his office window, to a play by play recounting of his meetings with each of the junior editors who will be reporting to him. Jensen nods and hums, listens and smiles, trying to show how grateful he is for his daddy's kindness. All the while, a stifling fear claws at his insides, threatening to drag him down to where his deepest, darkest memories still exist.

Luckily, it doesn't take long to make spaghetti and Jensen is glad for the distraction eating dinner provides.

"You're not eating. Are you feeling alright?" Daddy puts his own fork down and frowns at the plate of spaghetti in front of Jensen. "Mark told me that Christian came by to visit you for lunch. He said you guys all had Chinese. Are you still full of fried rice?"

Jensen takes the easy out and nods. It's a lie and it makes his stomach cramp up to deceive Jared. Better a lie, though, than to cause his daddy more worry. He picks at his food throughout the rest of the meal, just enough to show that he's making an effort.

After dinner they sit on the couch to watch a couple of sit-coms. The closer it gets to bedtime, the more fidgety Jensen becomes.

He doesn't want to be alone in his nursery because Mark's story is still lurking in there, waiting for daddy to turn out the lights and shut the door. So when it's time for bed, Jensen bypasses the nursery and crawls into Jared's bedroom instead. Although not completely unheard of, nights spent together in daddy's bed are rare, usually reserved for a special treat. Jensen hopes tonight qualifies.

Sitting next to the bed, he puts one hand on top of the bedspread and cocks his head at his daddy, eyes big and pleading.

Daddy throws his head back and laughs. "Pulling out all the stops I see. Where in the world did you learn to pout like that?" With a last chuckle he nods. "Yeah, okay, hop in."

Snuggled close to his daddy's reassuring warmth, Jensen drifts off to sleep faster than he would have believed possible.

[](http://disneymagics.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/393/6352)   



	3. Chapter 3

[](http://disneymagics.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/393/5649)

**Nightmares of Innocents**

**Chapter 3**

The next morning goes almost exactly the same as the previous one. To Jared's face, Mark is polite and servile, almost to the point of being condescending without actually crossing that line. Once Jared is gone though, it's like a switch flips and Mark's friendly smile becomes a predatory leer.

"Are you ready for our first game, Jensen?" Mark fakes a lunge and Jensen flinches, causing his nanny's mouth to curve up in a delighted grin. "Yesterday I went easy on you, it being our first day together and all. Today the games are gonna be a lot harder." Opening the messenger bag he has slung over his shoulder, Mark removes a tennis ball, tosses in into the air and catches it one-handed. "The first game is called 'Closet Ball.'"

At the word 'closet,' Jensen's blood runs cold and his fingertips go numb as if he'd fallen asleep in a strange position and cut off his circulation.

_Not the closet, not the closet, not the closet_ , Jensen silently chants. Getting put in the closet means being hungry and thirsty and not getting let out for a really, really long time. Getting put in the closet means wondering if this time they're going to forget all about him, if they're going to let him waste away until there's nothing left.

His panic must show on his face because Mark say, "I can see you're anxious to begin so let's get started.

The inside of the closet is pitch black, not a single gap or crack in the well-made frame to allow even a sliver of light through. Jensen strains his eyes, thinking he only needs to open them wider or stare harder and he'll be able to at least make out shapes, but there's nothing.

Like the rest of the house, the closet is small with only enough room for a couple of coats to fit on the bar above his head and that's about it. There's definitely not enough space for Jensen to move around or stretch out on the floor, so he curls up with his knees drawn up to his chest and tries not to give in to his imagination.

In the darkness, Jensen feels the walls, which were already nearly on top of him, squeezing closer. The ceiling seems to get lower. The air seems to get thinner.

Jensen sticks his thumb in his mouth and whimpers quietly while huddled in a ball on the floor.

Without any warning, there's a loud bang and the door shakes in its frame. Startled, Jensen's heart begins to gallop like a race horse. Seconds later, the banging noise comes again along with the rattling of the door. After the fifth or sixth time, Jensen figures out that Mark is throwing his tennis ball against the closet door. Unfortunately, knowing what the noise is doesn't make it any less disturbing and Jensen's heart rate goes through the roof each and every time.

By the time Mark opens the door, Jensen is a twitching, shuddering mess, thumb lodged firmly in his mouth and eyes screwed tightly closed.

"That was a fun way to spend the morning, but now it's time for your bath." Mark announces. "Get up and let's go."

The bright light coming through the open closet door stings his eyes and all Jensen can do is blink up at his nanny in confusion.

"Get up." In a fit of temper, Mark kicks out with a booted foot, catching Jensen on the side of the head, right behind his ear. The force of the blow makes his vision blur; his stomach does a queasy somersault.

"Look what you made me do, you little shit." Mark's voice is an angry snarl.

Reality buckles, the world falls away, and Jensen loses time, finding himself naked in a bathtub full of water when he once again becomes aware of his surroundings. There's a mean-looking man standing over him, leering.

Jensen's head hurts and he can't see very well, his vision keeps graying out and then flashing as though someone is turning the lights on and off really fast. He doesn't recognize where he is and he's certainly never seen this scary man before.

"Ready? On the count of three – one, two, three." The man says as he grabs two handfuls of Jensen's hair and uses his tight grip to push Jensen's head under the water.

With his head fully submerged, no possible way to get any air, survival instincts take hold of him. Frantically, he claws at the arms holding him down. He jerks his head from side to side, despite the bursts of pain and disorientation that causes. He kicks, splashing water out of the tub. Nothing works and Jensen needs to breathe.

He's almost ready to give in to his body's demands and breathe in a lungful of water when the man pulls him up and turns to look back through one of the two doors leading out of the room they're in.

Even as Jensen is gasping and coughing, he hears what has caught the man's attention - the sound of yelling and running footsteps right behind them.

"Get your fucking hands off him you sonofabitch!" A tall man storms into the bathroom and shoves the mean man so hard that he goes crashing into the sink, arms flailing.

At the same time, another, shorter man holding a gun yells, "Freeze asshole."

Both men wear the scariest, angriest scowls Jensen has ever seen. He hunches down in the water and hopes they don't notice him.

His hopes of escaping undetected are destroyed as the taller man turns to look straight at him. "Did he hurt you, baby?"

Jensen's only thoughts are of getting away, hiding, bolting. His heart beats frantically and everywhere he looks he sees violence and pain. It's like he's in a foreign world and nothing makes sense. The pounding in his head is deafening.

The tall man takes a hesitant step toward him, hand outstretched, and Jensen scrambles away, out of the bathtub and through the unblocked door, leaving a trail of water behind him.

"Jensen!" The tall man cries.

Jensen hears more talking coming from behind him, something about, "calling Misha and Chad," but he doesn't care what the men are saying. All he cares about is finding somewhere to hide.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Jensen has found shelter and that's all he's capable of comprehending. He's safe as long as he stays hidden. Terrified, he huddles and shakes inside the low-ceilinged confines of his cave. Sometimes a face will appear at the entrance to his cave and sometimes there are voices - sad voices, cajoling voices, soothing voices, calm voices, upset voices and odd combinations and variations of them all. The voices are indistinguishable. It's all just noise and chaos and confusion.

One of the voices sounds more emotional than the others. "Last night when I got home from the office, I thought he was acting…more reserved, more apprehensive, but I thought…I don't know, Chris…I thought it was a normal reaction to change, that he just needed to get used to it. I can't believe I hired that bastard to take care of him. I can't believe I did this to him and I didn't even realize what I was doing. I can't believe I let it go on for two days. Two days! How could I have left him with that…that…monster for two days?"

"You didn't know, Jared. Hell, I didn't even know and I did the background check on the guy. He had no previous record, he had references. You couldn't have known. You have to stop beating yourself up about it because that's not helping Jensen now."

At the sound of his name, Jensen flinches and tries to flatten himself against the wall at his back. He doesn't want to attract any attention; he wishes he could become invisible or that all those people out there would just go away and leave him alone.

"Yeah, but I don't know what to do. How can we help him?" says the emotional voice.

"Misha, can you tell if he's okay physically? I mean, he's still sopping wet and I didn't see any blood, but…"

"Not from here, he's all the way in the back, up against the wall, and there's not enough light. I can't tell a thing, not without pulling him out of there by force and examining him and I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why don't we just move your bed away from the wall and get to him that way?"

"Maybe as a last resort that would work, Chad, but if we can get him to come out on his own, I really think he'll be better off."

"Wait a minute, I have an idea. Jared, keep talking to him. I'll be right back."

A hush falls. There's a scuffling sound and then a face, backlit and shadowed, peers in at him. Red-rimmed hazel eyes framed by lashes made spiky by moisture seek him out in the gloom of his cave. "Hey baby, are you ready to come out yet? There's no one here who would ever hurt you. I prom-." The voice chokes off on a sob and a tear rolls down the face to drip onto the floor.

"Jared, come on man. It's not your fault." Someone whispers.

"Okay, let me try."

More shuffling and the face disappears to be replaced by another. This one has short blond hair and squinty eyes. "Jensen, there's someone here who needs to talk to you."

Something fluffy moves cautiously toward his hiding spot and Jensen's breath catches in his throat. When it gets close enough, he can see what it is – a small, white rabbit, its long ears twitching nervously.

"Mr. Bun saw something terrible happen today and he's very, very frightened." The bunny covers its face with its tiny paws. "He really needs someone special to take care of him, someone who knows how he feels, because he's only a small and timid bunny and he's all alone."

An anguished keening sound begins low in Jensen's throat, quickly filling the enclosed space.

"Oh God." A hushed voice says.

"Shh, keep going, Chad."

"After what Mr. Bun has seen today, he doesn't know who he can trust anymore, he doesn't know who his friends are." The bunny shakes and curls into a small, forlorn ball.

Wanting desperately to comfort the poor thing, Jensen stretches one hand toward the quaking ball of fluff.

The bunny startles and moves away from his outstretched hand.

"Mr. Bun feels like he'll never be safe ever again. He needs his friend's to hug him and show him how much they love him."

Jensen whimpers and scoots closer to the entrance of his safe, but lonely, refuge.

"That's it. Come on, kiddo." Someone coaxes so quietly Jensen almost doesn't hear it.

The bunny looks at him from between its paws, backing away slowly, careful to stay just out of his reach.

As Jensen slides warily from the relative safety of his shelter, the gloom recedes and everything around him seems to bend and shift, as though he'd been looking at the world through creepy, distorting glasses and now he can see clearly again.

Where before there had been only scary strangers and unfamiliar voices, he now sees his best friends, his family. Instead of a barren, threatening landscape, he now recognizes his beloved home.

Daddy is there, biting his bottom lip, an anxious knot furrowing his brow, arms wide open. Jensen snatches up his stuffed rabbit and collapses into his daddy's waiting arms.

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry." Jared sounds like he's having trouble getting enough air to speak, his voice no more than a shaky exhale.

Overwhelmed by the sorrow he hears coming from the one person he loves most of all, Jensen throws his arms around Jared's neck and sobs, "Da-ddeeee."

His exclamation, in a voice rusty from disuse, is meet only with a terrible stillness, like that single word has sucked all the life from the room. Taking his daddy's continued silence as disapproval, Jensen covers his aching head with his arms and cries harder. This is why he doesn't talk, nothing good has ever come of it. He should have known better than to try it now.

"No, no, no." Daddy gently pulls Jensen's arms away and caresses his cheeks, thumbs skimming over the delicate skin under his eyes to erase the streaks of tears. "You caught me off guard, that's all. You said 'daddy'…that's like…Jensen, that's the best present in the whole, wide world. Thank you."

Daddy wraps his arms around Jensen's shaking body, pulls him close and murmurs words of comfort. Wherever they touch, warmth seeps through the connection.

With an occasional sniffle, Jensen settles down. He's wiped out. It's getting harder to hold his head up so he lets it loll to the side until it comes to rest on his daddy's shoulder. Sticking his thumb in his mouth, he gazes up at his friends through half-open eyes.

Chad smiles at him uncertainly and holds up his blanket as though he's afraid of making a wrong move. "You've gotta be freezing. Can I put your blanket around you?"

Jensen nods while trying to stifle a yawn. He wants to give Chad a hug to show how grateful he is, but he's beginning to feel wobbly and weak, detached from what's happening, as though he's inside of a dream.

As Chad drapes the downy-soft blanket over Jensen's bare skin and tucks it in, he says, "I brought the blanket in from the nursery thinking maybe it would help, you know, if Mr. Bun didn't."

Chris clasps Chad's shoulder. "That was brilliant, man, with the rabbit. A stroke of genius." Chad gets red in the face, but he's grinning.

"Yeah, thanks Chad. You did good." Jared strokes a hand through Jensen's wet hair and brushes up against the sore spot behind his ear.

Pain sparks, sharp and bright. Jensen winces, turns his head, and sucks air in past the thumb in his mouth.

Daddy's voice sounds funny, kind of tight, carefully controlled, when he says, "Misha, you need to come over here and look at this."

Misha makes soft shushing noises as his nimble fingers part the hair on either side of the raw area. "Well, that can't feel very good. No wonder you're disoriented," he says under his breath before raising his voice slightly so the others can hear him. "There's a huge lump right here, but the skin's not broken. Looks like Pellegrino hit him with something blunt, I don't know what, could have been anything really. I'm pretty sure he's got a concussion."

If this is what a concussion feels like, then concussions hurt a lot. More than broken fingers. But maybe not as much as being stabbed in the stomach. There's a hierarchy to pain, levels of discomfort that can be measured against one another. Jensen had almost forgotten about that. Two years is a long time after all.

"Pellegrino's lucky I've already got him in custody 'cuz if he was still out there walking around, I'd fucking kill him." Christian growls.

"I don't care about Mark right now. What can we do for Jensen? Does he need to go to the hospital?" Daddy asks.

"We can give him something for the pain," says Misha. "They won't be able to anything for him at the hospital except to monitor him closely and we can do that right here. Besides, I don't think he's up for a stay in the hospital, are you champ?"

That's the thing Jensen loves about Misha – he understands how scary hospitals can be. Well, it's one of the things he loves about Misha.

The medicine they give him makes his head feel fuzzy while also making him really drowsy. Jensen burrows further into his blanket and his daddy's warmth. Just as he's drifting off, he feels someone pull his thumb out of his mouth. A wet pop indicates the loss of suction. He misses the comfort immediately and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, searching. He's too tired to protest though and soon he's fast asleep.

Movement and quiet conversation almost wake him up a couple of times. One of the conversations in particular seems interesting enough to wake up for and Jensen fights through layers of blanketing darkness, willing his eyes to open. The control just isn't there though and his eyes remain closed.

"Why, Chris? I just don't get it. Why did he do it? I mean, Jensen never did anything to him. Jensen would never have even fought back. Did he get off on the power trip or what?"

"I guess some people are like that. They see vulnerability and they want to take advantage of it, they want to destroy it just because they can. That's not why Pellegrino did it though, Jared."

"Why then?"

"Pellegrino did it out of some sick sense of justice. To his warped mind, Jensen is the reason his sister is in jail for neglect and abuse."

"What are you talking about? What justice?"

"Mark Pellegrino is Jensen's uncle…his mother's brother. There's a family resemblance – not much – but enough that once I saw him I felt like I knew him from someplace. That's what made me suspicious. That's why I did some more digging once I got back to the precinct. It took some time, but once I figured out who he was, I knew Jensen was in trouble."

"Are there any other relatives out there we need to be worried about?"

At this point, Jensen decides he doesn't want to hear any more. He stops trying to open his eyes and gives in to the temptation of oblivion.

The next time he wakes up, his eyes open easily. He's lying stretched out on the couch with his head in the crook of his daddy's arm and his upper body draped across his daddy's lap. Misha is crouched next to them, a penlight in his hand.

"Hey Jensen," Misha whispers. "I need to check your pupils. Just relax for me." Then Misha holds one of his eyelids open and shines the light directly into his eye.

For a moment, it reminds him of the bright light after being locked in the closet and his entire body stiffens.

"It's okay," soothes Daddy, voice low.

"One more," Misha warns before switching to the other eye. "Much better. Your pupils are reacting correctly now."

The way Misha is looking at him, Jensen guesses this news should make him happy so he smiles a little.

Daddy picks up a bottle from the side table, presses the nipple to Jensen's lips. "Drink, baby."

To his surprise, Jensen finds that he's starving. He latches on and sucks greedily. Half way through, he begins to flag though and before he reaches the bottom he's lost the battle to stay awake.

For the next several days, Jensen is never left alone. He falls asleep in his daddy's arms and wakes up with Chad, Christian, Misha, or some combination of the four of them, standing guard nearby. Often they have something they want him to eat or drink as soon as they see he's awake. He's not sure what to make of it, but it feels a lot like love so he doesn't question it.

One day, he wakes up and he feels a lot better. The knot behind his ear has gone down, the swelling nearly nonexistent. He's in the living room on the couch – he hasn't slept in his crib since…well, since before – and daddy, Christian, Chad and Misha are there with him. They all look very serious.

Jensen blinks and wonders what's going on.

Daddy sits next to him, clears his throat, and runs a hand through Jensen's hair to the nape of his neck where he scratches lightly. It feels so good that Jensen closes his eyes and hums his contentment. Then Jared says, "I made you a promise I was doomed to break from the very beginning. I promised that nothing bad was going to happen to you and I wanted it to be true."

That's not what Jensen is expecting to hear; his eyes pop open to look into the guilt-ridden face above him. Shaking his head, he sits up and cranes his neck until he can reach his daddy's jaw where he places a kiss. Still not sure of his ability to use words, this is the best way he knows to express his feelings.

Through a watery smile, Jared continues, "I wanted it to be true so very much, but there's no way I could keep that promise because bad things happen every day. No matter how much I want to protect you from all the bad things and all the bad people in the world, there's no way I can prevent everything. Not unless I wrap you up in bubble wrap and never let you out. Not unless I keep you locked up and never let you experience life, and believe me, after what happened, I've considered it."

Christian chuckles, a warm, affectionate sound, and steps closer to put a hand on Jared's shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "Bubble wrap may be a little extreme, J-man, although I don't blame you for the idea." He winks at Jensen and the mood lightens just enough that he can take a deep breath.

Jared's smile gets brighter, dimples putting in an appearance. "Yeah, I've been thinking about it though and there is a promise I can make you, sweetie – I promise to always be here for you. Through the good things and the bad things. I promise that I'll stick by you and love you and take care of you no matter what."

The promise is all that Jensen could ever hope for, more than he has ever expected. His answering smile feels like it's permanently glued to his face.

"I promise, baby." Daddy puts his hand on top of Jensen's.

Uncle Christian is the next to add his hand to the stack. "I promise, kiddo."

"Me too," says Chad, crossing his heart with his index finger before clasping Christian's hand.

Misha completes the pile by first kissing Jensen's forehead and then placing his hand on top of Chad's. "I promise."

Jensen looks at his true family, the family that chose him, the family that loves him, and he believes them with all of his heart. He knows they're going to be all right.

**The End.[](http://disneymagics.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/393/6952)**


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